


Blow My Cover

by CosmicBrownie



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: ??? - Freeform, Blowjobs, Exhibitionism, First Time, George's POV, Hey this is a legitimate smut I'm just mucking around, I think I found the name, I'm just kidding lmao, In which George and Clay live together in Florida, M/M, Neck Kissing, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Quiet Sex, Resolved Sexual Tension, Secret Sex, Sexual Tension, Smut, Steve Jobs - Freeform, handjobs, no beta we die like george does first all the time in minecraft manhunt, sorry for the tags, sorry to the apparent steve jobs freeform fandom, still have no clue what to call this kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-17 05:02:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29094699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CosmicBrownie/pseuds/CosmicBrownie
Summary: "Keep the mic on and keep playing," Dream whispered, kneeling between George's knees and spreading them apart."But don't blow my cover."
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 366
Collections: Done Reading





	Blow My Cover

**Author's Note:**

> man i really hope none of my tua or hamilton readers are here. that would be real embarrassing to not update those plot based stories for months and then get caught writing this big ol dirty dreamteam smut oneshot,,,,,,,  
> lol,,,,,,,  
> enjoy

"Did you die again, Dream?" came the disgruntled voice of Nick over the voice channel. George and his friends all turned to see a generous loot spill from where their friend had once been standing, his fallen character having just been shot by an arrow. This was the seventh time that evening that they'd witnessed something of the sort.

George paused his fervent mining for a moment to show concern. "What's with you today, Clay?"

"Yeah, what's up?" asked Darryl from nearby as he took care of the skeleton that had killed their friend from afar. He opened the chat to teleport their friend over, but was stopped as they got a reply.

"I dunno. I think I'm done for today," Dream sighed. "I was up all night...grinding. I'm really-" His voice drowned into a sleepy yawn. "-tired."

"Rage quitting?" asked Daryll.

"Hey, it's alright, maybe you should take a break then," insisted Nick as he inconspicuously swept up his friends discarded items and began to sift through them. "You know, get some rest. Drink some tea and all that. Take care of yourself."

"Nah, mate, you just want his diamonds," George laughed. Nick pulled his mic closer and shushed him jokingly as if Clay couldn't also hear his voice.

"No, I think he's right," Clay agreed, sounding on the verge of yawning again. After a moment, text appeared in the corner announcing to George that his friend had left the game, to his disappointment. He hoped he wouldn't leave the voice chat, too, but then he added, "I think I should call it a night early. See you guys."

George was the first to say, "Goodbye!" Darryl whined, then said goodbye as well, and Nick's character changed into a diamond chestplate with a happy farewell to his friend.

He recognized sadly the sound of Clay hanging up the call after a moment, before his friends returned to chatting about their last video. He didn't really pay attention, though. He laughed when the others did, to maintain appearances, but he couldn't care less if BadBoyHalo's recent upload did twice as well as usual, or if Sapnap's last video tweet was retweeted by several popular gamers.

George turned off his mic for a moment as his friends built up an obsidian rectangle and wondered if he should check on his as of recent flatmate to see if he was alright. He was sure he wouldn't be bothering the boy, but didn't know if his friends would make a big deal if he said he was taking a break too and embarrass them both. They had been feverently insisting lately that George must have feelings for the other, or at least, found the joke really funny to make that he did.

Before he could make a decision, he heard a knock on his door.

"Come in!" George called, feeling his heart begin to race as his invitation was accepted and the door creaked open. Soon a tall, yet meek figure in a baggy t-shirt and jeans entered the doorway, giving a short wave.

"Hey," the blonde man said quietly. George swallowed, then waved back. "What's up?" he asked in reply.

Dream pointed a finger at the corner of his face, then at George, as if to indicate his microphone, and he tilted his head and lifted his eyebrows in an inquisitive look.

"It's off," George told him, patting the chair beside him where he was perched in an invitation. He felt his heartbeat pick up speed as Clay gave him a soft look and a smile, and walked over to sit down. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Dream replied casually as he stood and leaned over his friend to check his other monitor to verify that his microphone was in fact turned off. George felt every centimeter between them linger, yearning to be crossed, and in a rush of heat caught a whiff of his friend’s cologne and closed his eyes. He missed the lack of distance between them the moment his friend moved away to sit down.

_Fuck, was he getting turned on?_

He swallowed, already feeling something begin to rise in his stomach from having the other near. "Are you sure?" he asked warily. "Why are you in here? I thought you were going to bed."

Clay looked at him with those soft, striking eyes and rubbed the back of his neck shyly. "Well, I'm done playing, for sure. I'm tired. But it's only, like, 9:30. I'm not ready for bed yet. So I guess I thought I'd watch you play."

"Oh."

"I can leave if you want." Clay rose from his chair. "I didn't mean to bothe-"

"No!" George said quickly. "Don't, uh-" He stammered, trying to sound cooler about it. "I-I-I m-mean, it's c-cool with me. You know, if you, uh, want to, er, stay. You can. If you want. I'm fine."

Clay seemed to notice something about George's demeanor, but he didn't mention it. "Thanks," he said. "Do you, uh, mind if I-well, I mean, the lights in your room are so bright, I don't know why you insist on keeping all of them on all the time, and-"

"You can turn them off, if you want," George said.

Clay paused. "Thanks, again," he chuckled, and leaned over to the light switch, shutting it off.

George squinted, adjusting his eyes to the blaring light of his monitors, and turned down the brightness. He heard and felt George take a seat next to him. He tried not to notice how close their thighs were from colliding as his friend leaned over to watch him play. Suddenly, Minecraft became the most difficult game in the world.

"George? George?" Nick shouted into the mic, and judging by the urgency, it wasn't the first time. The boy panicked and clicked the button to turn his mic back on quickly.

"I'm here! Sorry," he apologised, snapping his focus back into the game and his other two friends. "What is it?"

"Do you have the last obsidian blocks for this portal?" he asked, a slight glimmer of annoyance in his tone. Next to him, an almost complete portal stood over a pit of lava, and Daryll stared too, waiting expectantly.

"Oh yeah, I have it. It's right here," he said nervously, dropping the item for his friend to retrieve.

"Thanks," said Nick. The pair returned to building, and in a moment, the portal faded to life.

George spared a glance at Clay, and saw him staring as if _he_ should have been asking if the other was alright. George pushed his thoughts away and headed into the purple mist with his friends. Once he arrived, he muted again. Something was bothering him.

"Hey," he said quietly, as if the others might still hear. "So we were playing last night until only, like, what? Ten? So why are you so tired? Did you keep playing after we signed off? You said you were heading off early to get some rest then too."

Clay looked to be hit in the face with realization after that, remembering how he had told George the night before after they had finished filming a video together that he was going to bed. He chuckled nervously. "Oh, yeah. I guess I...uh...stayed up later after that. Not on the game, though."

"Oh?" George continued to move his character through the new realm, but continued to turn over to look at his friend moment after moment to catch his changed expressions. "What were you doing?"

"You know what? Can I just be honest, here?" he chuckled, leaning in close to George until he could feel the boy's warm breath on his neck. He grabbed one of George's headphones and slid it off, exposing his ear, which he moved close to. "I was getting off," he whispered in a low, rugged voice that tumbled into a relaxed, comfortable laugh.

George hoped that Clay didn't notice how he shivered at that, his breath catching in his throat in surprise. Immediately, a rush flew through him, sending a sensation below. George sucked through his teeth and tried his hardest to repress it, even as the handsome boy chuckled with that deep voice into his ear, mere centimeters away. He forced a small laugh too, to cover up his shyness and giggled along with his friend.

"Okay, well that makes sense," he said with a smile. He stole a glance back at the other monitor to check the status of his microphone, which, to his relief, was still off and hadn't magically turned on again just to spite George.

Clay settled back into his chair beside him at the desk and watched as George fought off a swarm of pigmen with much more difficulty than usual.

"Why aren't you criticizing my performance?" joked George to Clay after a while.

"Don't wanna backseat drive," he answered with a shrug, and leaned over to rest his head on George's shoulder casually. Beneath the desk, their thighs collided and brushed against each other. "Besides, you're doing just fine."

George's eyes widened as he stared at the screen, but for the most part, he gave no evidence of how much the contact had sent him reeling. Dream could be very physical. It should have come as no surprise, he told himself. Despite that though, as he continued to play, a growing feeling rose within him as he tried to continue to fight off the monsters without moving his left arm too much as to not shake Clay off, like when his cats would rest on his lap and he'd lay perfectly still, not moving a muscle as to insure that they stayed at their perch.

Their legs were right up against each other, not an inch between them.

Clay hummed, exhaling, and a rush was sent to George's nether realm.

Trying to distract his own self from it, he stirred up a conversation. "S-so, uh, I saw that new video got on the trending page the other day. Pretty cool."

"Yeah," Dream agreed, the smile present in his voice. He laughed, and his usual loud, cheery internet-character demeanor returned for a moment. Then his voice relaxed again. "I swear, I'll spend ages on a video, right? And then I churn out some random upload right after just to please the algorithm and bam! Trending page. Millions of views."

George tried to listen to what his friend was saying, but simply didn't process it. Instead, he was hung up on the sound of him talking. His voice had a sleepy drawl to it, and was deeper than usual, and from up close, it sounded so different than when they would play games in the day through a voice channel. It was so... _sexy_. George's breathing picked up a little as his cock continued to grow mercilessly at the sound of Dream's voice so close by.

Clay chuckled again, slower. Still not helping the situation. He sighed. "There is some secret to it that I'm not getting, I swear."

"I think people just really liked how much you were goofing around in it. You know, not playing very hard, or focussing on the task or game, just talking. It was more interesting that way, and more funny," George replied, meaning it. That was always the best part of playing with Dream. When they would do something stupid and laugh until they couldn't breathe. When Clay would take his hands off the keyboard and just talk and shout and laugh and laugh and laugh with that adorable voice of his. George smiled, remembering how much fun they had filming that video for his channel a few days ago. It made all the time he had devoted to loyally coding Dream's idea for it all the more worth it.

"You really think?" asked his friend, leaning back, but still remaining very close to his face. George bravely turned over and met his gaze. They were no more than an inch or two apart. A smirk threatened to break at the corner of his lips, and even more daringly, George didn't resist his urges and stole a glance or two down at the other's mouth.

He nodded. "Yeah. I think people really like your personality most. When you're being an idiot." He looked away. "I think they like your voice. I know I like it."

George hadn't intended to say that last part, but he did, and he didn't take it back.

Clay stared for a moment from up close, then let out a little laugh. He glanced at George's lips too, which he caught just as he looked back in his direction. His dick twitched. "Yeah," Clay said, low and quiet. "Or maybe that thumbnail I made was just _really_ good."

George bit his lip, mind becoming so hazy with lust he could barely process what was happening. He blinked several times, clearing the fog from his brain. "Yeah, or that." He ripped his face away from Clay's proximity and followed his friends deeper into the realm, taking a deep breath.

"But thanks," Clay said, nuzzling up to his arm again. Suddenly, the fabric of George's hoodie sleeve was way too thick, and the fabric of his jeans too tight. He thanked the lord that it was dark enough inside that room to hide it, then pushed the whole idea of the man upstairs out of his mind out of guilt. For extra measure, he turned his brightness down a little more.

The cologne was so intoxicating now. Practically unbearable.

George continued into the nether, collecting items and fighting monsters and, for the most part, relying on his friends to lead the way as he fell behind, mind unfocussed and the stiffness of his erection failing to let up even several minutes after. He had unmuted several minutes ago, which made Clay fall silent, but he didn't need to talk to encourage George's arousal. Each time he would begin to forget about the soft, comfortable presence of Dream beside him, the other would jostle or chuckle, exhale deeply onto him or even nuzzle his head further into his hoodie sleeve, and his hard-on would rage once more. George was surprised at himself for maintaining his composure for as long as he had, really. It was becoming a grueling task.

"Hey, blaze on the left," Clay said softly at one point, urgent enough that he didn't notice or care about George's microphone being on, which George then promptly shut off, though the other's didn't take notice. George, breathing hard and barely keeping track of which monitor was playing Minecraft, struggled to move out of the way of the monster's blow. He swiped at him with his diamond sword, but it shattered, because of course it did. He shifted through his items frantically for another one, but his mind was somewhere else. Luckily, Nick took care of it for him and pressed onward.

"Hey, wither at 3 o'clock! Right! Right!" Clay warned, sitting up. He grabbed George's bicep and leaned in close, pointing slightly at the approaching monster, but that was enough to send George over the edge. His boner was almost painful now against the restraint of his jeans, and his breathing was fast and hard. It was simply too difficult to focus. "George! Look! Hit it!"

George swiped desperately at the creature, but as he backed away with only a heart left, he ran into a blaze, and the screen turned red. He groaned in frustration, hearing his friends in his headphones whine and laugh at his failure. "Alright, heading back," he said into the briefly turned on microphone as he spawned back into the game. "Keep my stuff, I'm coming."

"Hey," Clay said, nudging his friend when he shut it off again. "Are you okay?" The blonde's eyes looked straight into his, sparkling and awake now and swimming with feeling.

"I-I'm fine," George chuckled nervously. "Why?" He shifted in his seat uncomfortably, then tried to subtly pull his jeans down a little to adjust his hard-on. His bottom lip, pressed tight between his teeth, was chewed raw.

"You're breathing really hard, and you're acting odd, dude," Clay said. He studied his face closely. "You feeling alright? Maybe you should get some rest too, or-"

"I said I'm fine," George interrupted through gritted teeth. He turned back to the game, the regret of how harsh he sounded stinging him. "Don't worry about it." He reached down and tugged at his jeans again, wriggling slightly in his chair.

Dream was too quiet about that. After a long few seconds, he spared another glance over, to find to his horror that the boy was looking intensely at his hand which was adjusting the tall tent in his crotch. In a hurry, he pulled it away and scooted into his desk, turning his face without a word. There was no way Clay hadn't seen it. He hated how his dick twitched at the attention, though.

"George-"

"Shut up!" he said loudly, humiliation washing over him in a flood. He turned away, knowing his face was burning and already probably bright red. He should've expected this, but it was still more dreadful than he could imagine.

"No, George. It's-"

"Dream, it's nothing, don't worry about it, please," he said, covering his face in embarrassment. He could hear Sapnap over the voice channel call out to him, but he ignored it, trying now desperately to urge his erection away. _Think of the queen,_ he told himself. _Think of her majesty, the queen, the old, very, very_ un-sexy _queen-_

"George!" Clay demanded loudly, grabbing the other's chair and spinning him around quickly to face him. George had nowhere to hide either his face or the very prominent bulge in his jeans anymore. He looked straight at the other's determined expression, inhaling sharply when Dream stared for a moment at it in what looked like interest and darkening arousal.

"It sure doesn't look like 'nothing'," he said with a small smirk, his voice rasping slightly in a way that drove George's mind into a hazy state of lust. "Don't tell me you're getting a 'nothing' boner this big from playing _Minecraft_ , now."

George was breathing hard and writhing in his seat. He licked his lips, not trying to repress the hardness forming below for lack of a point. He waited for what Clay would do next, unsure of what to say. Soon, the younger boy's eyes were glued to the rising tent in his pants, which only encouraged it more.

Clay stood, placing a knee between the other's legs and leaning in close to remove his headphones, and the scent of his cologne enveloped George again. Placing a hand at either side of the boy, he broke practically every millimeter between them. "Hey, do you..." His voice was quiet, and for a moment George detected a hint of adorable nervousness. "...do you want help with that?"

George almost whined right then and there. He stared in disbelief, unsure of what to answer. Then he saw Clay swipe his tongue between his lips and gave up any remaining restraint. Nodding desperately, and trying to wrap his mind around the fact that his friend had actually just offered it, he said, "Yes. Please. Fucking christ. Dream-"

Clay leaned in to peck the boy on the lips like he needed it to live. Like a fairy tale prince waking a sleeping princess and breaking a curse. Like he'd been waiting for it. Longer than an evening. For a while. He broke away and looked into his eyes as if searching for confirmation that he'd either done something good, or done something really, really bad, and when he saw the glassy, lustful pair of eyes staring back, moved in to kiss him again.

George opened his mouth, offering for Clay to go deeper, and he did, kissing him more passionately than before. Neither was thinking about their years of friendship that would be changed in that single moment. Both were thinking about the years of repressed feelings now. George reached up to grab his face, moaning girlishly and pulling him deeper in still and adoring the little groan that came from the back of the other's throat. Clay then grabbed his hair and tilted his head up and he gasped.

"D-dream..." George whined quietly as Clay ran his exploring fingers through the other's dark hair. His mouth moved messily off of George's and pecked his cheek, then his jaw, then his neck, then lower and lower. "Nn... _Dream_."

"Yes, George?" Dream mumbled against his skin before pressing a soft, open mouthed kiss to the tender area there. He grazed up with his teeth then kissed down again higher on his neck, teasing him. When the boy whined again, he bit down, and George shouted.

"Dream! Don't leave any-ah, ah-" his voice trailed off, and before he could finish his demand, the boy was already nuzzling into his neck and sucking down hard where a bruise would surely be left the next day. Forgetting about the future, George let him, hand wound tight in Dream's blonde hair and his erection trapped tight in his pants but screaming at him to be free.

" _Dreeeeeaaaam..._ " he cried softly.

George knew that both his friends in the game were surely calling his name now. He didn't care.

"Hey-" he said, pulling Clay off of him. "I thought you said you'd help me with my stiffy, not make me _more_ hard out of my fucking mind."

Clay laughed against George's neck, a sweet sound, and hummed, "Alright, alright. I've just always wanted to know what it would be like to do that to you. Now I know." He leaned in to George's exposed ear and nipped at it. "You moan that name like a _slut_."

George whined, his dick twitching in his pants again. He gyrated his hips below Clay, the friction the only ease he'd been given so far. He moaned again in surprise as the intuitive Clay pressed his knee down on the bulge there, giving him just the right amount of pressure to edge a sweet plaintive noise from his throat and make him feel good.

He felt Clay's breath on his ear again as he whispered, "You know, when I was up last night, getting off, I was thinking about you the whole time. About touching you like this." A foreign hand slid up his hoodie and flicked across his nipple, the other grabbing him by the chin and tilting his head up to face him.

He simply stared in awe, hands gripping the sides of his seat like his life depended on it. He was more turned on now than he'd ever been in his life.

"Dream, t-t-touch me," he muttered between more desperate kisses. "I've waited so long. Fuck. Please."

"Mm, you're so needy, aren't you?" Dream said into his ear with that low, deep voice, and George shivered. "Saying that name like such a slut. Knowing what you're doing t'me. You're so desperate for me." He wasn't just saying this for show, and George could tell. His voice was curious, grateful, even, and amazed that George was so affected by him.

All he could do in reply was nod, whimpering slightly and blinking at him with his dark, aroused, glassy eyes.

"Christ, George," Clay groaned, demeanor fading. "You're so fucking-" He stopped himself short by leaning in to plant a heavenly kiss on his lips. Those lips travelled to his jaw next, then his neck again, and back down to where he'd placed a hickey or two, before stopping at the collar of his jumper. 

"Take this off," he whispered barely, grabbing the hem of it and tugging it up above his torso. George gladly stripped it off of his body and up over his head in a matter of moments, along with his shirt, relishing in Clay's touch as it returned there. George's eyes scanned his body up and down gratefully as he explored the newly exposed skin with his eyes, then with his hands as they raked across his chest. Soon his mouth returned there, sucking on first his collarbone, then his nipple (which made George whine like a teenage girl, to Clay's delight), then down his happy trail to the hem of jeans. He moved lower and lower until he was kneeling on the floor below Clay, and for the first time in a while, looked up at him for confirmation.

Before George could even start to beg Clay for his mouth like it was all he ever wanted in life, he heard a sound that made his whole body go rigid. In his headphones, he heard someone call his name.

"Fuck," he said. "The game!"

They both turned over to look at the screen, where the death screen stared back in alarming red. At some point, George had clearly died. He put his headphones back on and turned on the mic, trying to remember what a coherent, normal person sounded like.

"Uh-uh, I'm here. Sorry. I was just ah-t-taking a piss," he lied, spawning back into the world. He barely heard whatever reply they had for that, though, as he noticed Dream move down below the desk. He smirked down at George's rock-hard penis and then back up at him.

George yanked the mic away from his mouth. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like?" Dream whispered back, settling between his knees and placing a hand to either one. He pulled them apart slowly and moved forward. He planted a kiss to the bulge there, and George gasped.

Unwilling to tell him to stop, and deciding that the idea was insane but the best option, he merely moved over to the other monitor to turn his mic off, but Dream pinched him quick to stop him. George stared down, confused.

"Keep the mic on and keep playing," he whispered, reaching up and cupping his erection through his pants to a short noise from George. "But don't blow my cover."

"You're crazy," George bit out.

"It'll be suspicious if you mute again. Besides, this will be fun," he hummed, reaching up and unbuttoning his friend's jeans. "You wanna do it?"

George panted hard, trying to decide. He knew Clay was right, and the whole idea was so erotic and kinky it was making him horny as hell. So, against his better judgement, he nodded at the boy between his legs and pulled the mic back to his mouth.

"Our little secret," whispered Dream, facing down again.

"George? You there? I swear-" Nick began.

"I'm here!" he called back, interrupting. "Just, ah, t-teleport me over."

"...alright," said Daryll, entering it into the chat. After a moment, George appeared with the other's in the nether.

Below the desk, Dream unzipped George's pants and tugged down both his jeans and boxers in one swift motion as George lifted his hips. He inhaled sharply as Dream's hot breath met his dick, and had to bite down hard on his bottom lip to stifle any little noises as the boy brought his clothes down to his ankles and spread his thighs even further apart, making him feel extremely exposed. He glanced down at the boy, who was looking right up at him already, mouth and face so close to his bare cock.

"D-d-do you guys have my inventory?" George asked, swallowing. Trying to sound casual. Normal. The others said yes and began to drop his stuff, the items appearing and then filling the boxes at the bottom of his screen instantly.

Dream raked his hands up and down George's soft, sensitive inner thighs, and cupped his balls in his hands before spitting on his hand and wrapping it around the base of his shaft. George let out a little, guttural moan, and looked down at Dream. His hand stroked up, then down slowly, then repeated the motion again. George's eyes shut tight and his mouth opened, but no sound came out.

"Alright, let's go," the boys said as they continued on down the bridge. Unbeknownst to them, George was trying to control his heavy breathing as he leaned back and glanced at Dream, who was now taking his dick faster in his fist, twisting his wrist at the top and making him shudder.

"Shit," he cursed under his breath.

"What?" Nick said. "What's up?"

Oh. So, that was louder than he thought.

"Nothing," George chuckled. "C'mon."

Dream picked up the pace still as George fought back moans. He pressed his lips together and tried to focus on the game with difficulty. Dream was being relentless, pumping George fast and squeezing his fist and thumbing at the head as he watched him. Every once in a while, George would steal a look, and their eyes would meet, and that would be the most errotic thing of all. Dream was looking at him deliciously, as if he was something good to eat, and smiling at every little twitch and shudder he coaxed out of him. He was relishing in every moment of it all, and it made George feel hot to be watched so closely.

Soon, George became close.

"Dream," he whispered ever so quietly, leaning back and pulling the mic away from his open mouth. "I'm gonna c..." he mouthed, and Dream immediately pulled his hand away, making George have to fight off a whine that he just barely managed to stop before it spilled from his lips. Dream, from beneath, shook his head. He didn't want George to come yet.

"H-hey, does anybody have some food?" George asked shakily, and took a deep breath. He had to get himself under control, and now he had a moment to do so.

"Yeah, here you go," said Daryll, dropping some rotten flesh in front of him.

"Oh, c'mon, rotten flesh? Re-eally?" he laughed, hoping the others couldn't hear the nervousness or the break in his voice as Dream placed another kiss to George's dick. His hot breath on his member made him twitch and press his lips together tightly again. He swallowed, looking down.

"Dream..." mouthed the boy as he watched him take his dick in hand again. He began to press a series of kisses and little kitten-licks down, until he reached the base, where he licked a stripe all the way up to his head.

George accidentally groaned gutterally through his pressed lips, but quickly covered it up by saying, "Uh-darn, I was shot. Skeleton."

"Where?" asked Nick frantically. "Wait, there's no skeletons he-"

"I killed it already. Weird glitch or something," he managed, just as Dream swiped his tongue over the slit on his head and his back arched in pleasure. He put his finger into his mouth and bit down hard, trying to stop himself from making noise. He looked at Dream with a mistified look that fucked him with his eyes, desperate and wanting, but unwilling to blow his cover.

Dream seemed to take that as a challenge, and he took a deep breath before swallowing George all the way down, making him gasp loud. Luckily though, Sapnap was in the process of screaming over being killed, and it went unheard. He pulled back up, and George gripped the edge of his desk for dear life as he began to set a pace. He couldn't have ever imagined or believed that Dream would be so good at or into doing this, but wasn't complaining about finding it out.

"D-did you pick up S-sap's loot, or, er, should I?" asked George, feeling as though he hadn't talked in a while. 

"I've got it," said his friend to his immense relief.

Dream wrapped his hand around the base of his cock, pumping and twisting both his hand and his head around it this cover every inch. He lapped his tongue underneath and hollowed his cheeks, pressing the flat of his tongue against the head and swiping it across whenever he reached the top. He looked up at George the whole time, eyes glassy with lust and staring straight into his, the corners of his mouth drooling and his stretched lips spit-slick.

 _And you called me a slut,_ George thought with swelling pride. George was enraptured, but Clay possibly even more so, and he looked debauched.

"We've got the spawners, let's go!" shouted his friends from inside his headphones, and he snapped back into focus. He could barely manage to walk his character out of the fortress as he panted and writhed beneath Dream's touch. He stopped several times when it got too much, looking down to grab Clay by his pretty blonde hair and run his fingers through, caressing his scalp and admiring everything about what he was seeing. Each time, Clay moaned and hummed around his dick and sent warm vibrations up George's whole body, almost making him moan out loud. It was getting harder and harder to keep quiet, and even more so to not come with every tug on his member from Clay. He felt him lick a bead of precome from his tip and shuddered, hips bucking upward.

"Nn, _god_..." he muttered, not thinking. " _Dream_..."

"Uh, George?" came the voice of Bad, who's nervous chuckle made George's soul practically leap out of his body.

"...is so gonna regret not joining us on this run," George pretended to finish, panting and gasping for air. He tried to steady the rise and fall of his chest, but failed as he leaned back against his chair and looked down at the man beneath him to catch his smirk of a reaction. His eyes were glazed over and his breaths equally as laboured, clearly as affected by the act as George. Worn out. It was only driving George closer to see him debauched like that.

Slowly, George felt the hand that had previously been stroking up and down his thigh and spreading it far apart from his other slide up and grab his hand. For a brief moment, their finger threatened to intertwine, but then he guided his empty hand back to that head of blonde hair. Instinctively, his fingers tightened their, earning him a sweet groan from Dream. 

He looked up at George, as if telling him that meant something. George understood, lip tucking under his teeth again as he slowly guided Dream by his hair down to the end of his throbbing cock again, which the recipient accepted between his lips gratefully. His mouth slid seamlessly over it again, then back all the way down to his base with a minor gag which made George's back arch off the chair.

He looked up and hummed at George, affirming that it was okay, and George's hips jolted again.

He could hardly care less about the game or his friends anymore as he devoted all his attention to Dream. He guided his head down his length slowly at first, then faster, soon fucking his friend's throat mercilessly, hands wrung tight in those dirty-blonde locks. With his other hand, he clasped it over his parted, bitten-raw lips, eyes fighting to stay open to keep watching Dream choke and moan around his dick and his eyebrows creased beautifully on his tense forehead. He swept his dark hair out of the way, then pulled his microphone back too. This was too much to handle not outright scream to. Already George was making tiny little high-pitched mewls and grunts from the back his throat that were only muffled from his hand over his mouth. His hand in Clay's hair moved faster, needy and desperate.

Clay persevered, though, accepting his whole length with strength and grace, save for the occasional gag. It was messy. It was dirty as fuck. And it was perfect.

"Fuck, I'm, I'm gonna..." George whispered breathily, mouth agape and chest filling and collapsing moment after moment.

Then all of a sudden, he lifted his lips from George's dick with a pop. He opened his mouth, sticking his tongue out and his eyes fluttering, struggling to stay open as he pressed the tip of George's cock against his bottom, parted lip. He began to pump George quick and needily, indicating for him to finish into his mouth and onto his face. Indicating for him to _defile_ Clay.

George sure wished his brightness was higher now so he could properly burn that image into his brain to satisfy himself for the next few nights. Hell, the next few weeks. But it was too late for that now. He was moments away.

He pulled his microphone farther away, then opted to just take off the headset. "I'm really close," he whined in a breath barely audible enough for the other to hear.

"Say my name," Dream muttered sleepily against George's tip as he pumped faster, as if desperate and needy for George's release as much as he was. Begging for him on his knees for his _cum_. He closed one eye, ready for it. He looked so debauched.

"Ah, D-dream," George keened, feeling that familiar rise in his cock as he barely restrained himself from finishing right then and there.

"No, say _my name."_

"Nn, C-C-" George moaned. _"Clay!"_

What followed was the most beautiful, full body release Clay had ever seen and George had ever experienced as he came, spilling his hot seed all over Dream's open mouth and chin. His back and hips rose off the chair as he shuddered and twitched, Clay squeezing every last drop out of him and fully milking his whole orgasm out. His mouth flew open, and accidentally, he cried, a pretty, broken moan freeing from his lips in a needy flush for release.

His world came to immediately after that. 

"Woah, George," Nick laughed. "Uh-you okay, buddy?" Silence fell, save for a small breathy laugh from Daryll.

Humiliation flashed through George again in a rush as he calmed down in a matter of moments. His afterglow passed quickly, and he pulled back his mic and sputtered, searching for something to say to cover up such a sound. Some good excuse. Any excuse.

"S-sorry! I bit my tongue _really hard_ ," he decided on, feeling relieved as his friends laughed and continued on, disregarding it only slightly awkwardly. Crisis averted.

From beneath the table, Clay chuckled lightly, and George remembered him all at once as well. He scooted back, looking down at the painted and ruined boy resting between his knees, a wave of guilt and apology crashing into him.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry," he whisper-shouted, grabbing his stripped shirt from the floor and urging it toward Clay's chin to clean up with, but Clay shook his head dismissively and pushed it away, swiping his finger over his lips and chin and then licking his fingers clean of George's cum slowly.

"Jesus," George breathed. He could get hard again already just from the sight of that.

He smiled. "C'mere."

Clay did, rising from his knees. When he was standing in front of George again, that's when the boy noticed the wet patch staining the front of his pants, he almost laughed. He reached over and muted the chat, deciding he'd explain himself to his friends later, then chuckled freely into the air.

"You already came? In your fucking _pants_?" he asked lowly, quiet, as if the others could still overhear. Clay blushed.

"You were just so hot," he mumbled unexpedly shyly. "Trying to keep quiet like that. Your face. Jesus. Do you know what you looked like? What you _sounded_ like? Lord have mercy. You're pretty as fuck, George."

It was George's turn to blush. "Shut up."

"I'm serious."

George smiled up at Clay, shaking his head. His heart was glowing, though he could hardly process what had just happened. He decided that before he could, or Dream could, he had to do something more. Before they came to some semblance of sense. If they ever would. Quick.

"You know," he chuckled. "I was going to return the favour." His hands reached up and brushed Dream's crotch, which was practically at eye level, indicating what he meant. He looked up, inviting.

Clay bit his lip and grabbed George's chin, tilting it up harshly to face him. Relishing in the difference in stature. George remembered how it felt to kiss him like that before, and before he knew it, they were kissing again. Clay's mouth collided briefly with his. Soft, sweet, and simple. But loving.

"Who says you still can't," Dreamed muttered against his lips. His breath was hot and now it tasted of something more. George's own cum, he realized in a flush of lust. Clay had swallowed every last drop. This was more than an accident.

George smiled, his dick stirring again at once. His hands drifted up the other's legs and unbuttoned his pants.

"Our little secret."

-

"It's so hot in Florida, holy ever-loving fuck," George breathed out. It was the next day, and he was streaming with his facecam on with Sapnap and Dream. He rubbed his face, where a small layer of sweat had accumulated. "I hate it here." 

"No, you don't," Dream laughed in return. There was a slight change in his voice, one that George wondered if Clay had meant for him to pick up on, and he did with a small smile.

"Well I'm taking this off..." he huffed, and pulled his hoodie off with a yank of the hemline and a swift lift of his arms. He wondered if Clay was watching him now. His face was red, his breathing hot and heavy, and he felt something innately sexy about stripping a layer off on camera, even if it really was because of the heat. He wondered if he was looking at his lips and remembering their kiss right about then and glowed.

"Ooh, stripping for us, George? How scanda-" Sapnap began to laugh, then stopped. "Uh...George, I think you might want to put your hood back on."

George tilted his head and looked confused. "Why?" he asked. He tugged the collar of his shirt and waved it up and down, exposing his skin in another hopeful show.

Dream stopped what he was doing and chimed in, "What? What do you mean Sapn-oh! George! Put your hoodie back on right now."

"But it's so hot in h-"

"Now!" Dream demanded, and the commanding tone in his voice made George sit up straight. 

George, concerned now, took a glance at the chat. There, an explosion of messages flew by. He only caught a few.

_"Funny that he gets those after moving in with you-know-who..."_

_"ASNDJBFUF SAPNAP AHAHAHA"_

_"WHO GAVE THEM TO YOU GEORGE I DEMAND ANSWERS"_

_"Damn wish it coulda been me oh well"_

_"BOTTOM"_

_"Dream is definitely on top and this is proof"_

_"Awww it's kinda cute!!"_

What did they mean? What did they know? George wondered frantically as he stared into the blur of words, then back at his streaming screen. He glanced up at the face cam, and that's when he saw them.

On his neck. Two or three big hickies.

The live stream ended abruptly that day. George would have some explaining to do.

Damn, he blew their fucking cover.

**Author's Note:**

> "nether realm" huehuehuehuehue
> 
> Might make this a longer fic. Like-rewrite it with a plot about them moving in together and draw it out with loads more sexual tension and escalate it to more exciting smut and stuff. Would anyone wanna read that-or?
> 
> (-also, not entirely sure if you can teleport mates to you in the nether, but I wasn't going to start it up and find someone to play with to find out. I'm not that committed.)
> 
> (sorry steve jobs fandom.)


End file.
